Stalker
'Disclaimers' This semi-short story is the exclusive property of Solstice the Sandwing Nightwing. All characters and ideas featured are my own creation, unless otherwise noted (to account for possible fan appearances or input). DO NOT COPY OR PLAGIARIZE THIS NOVEL UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. The prologue is set during the War Of SandWing Succession, when the MudWings were allied with the SeaWings. Character Pages: (None currently) Solstice the Sandwing Nightwing 10:19, February 15, 2020 (UTC) 'Summary' (Incomplete) 'Prologue: Battleborn' Thick smoke belched into the skies, forming a greasy black miasma. Fire smoldered among the grass, or more specifically, what was left of it. Bodies littered the ground, MudWing and SkyWing alike. Spatterdock hovered in the air and surveyed the wreckage, disgusted. Half of his village had been completely and utterly destroyed by the fierce battle. Charred piles of mud that had once been homes lay broken on the ground. Everything lay in a state of disrepair and ruin. This is why the SkyWings deserve to be eradicated. Thankfully, Spatterdock's sleep house had been left mostly untouched from what he could see in the distance. His sisters, Lobelia and Sedge, were there guarding their unhatched sibling, while he fought to protect them. He'd never let them down, not over his dead body. That was the role of a bigwings. Speaking of which, the egg was due to hatch at any moment. The shaking had started earlier that morning, and cracks were showing by the time the SkyWings had ambushed. I'm going to have another sibling. Another dragon to protect. Another dragon to love. He still couldn't quite believe it. Most MudWings hatched alongside their siblings, but one day, about seven moon cycles ago, a single mysterious egg had been left in their sleep house. No one had stepped forward to claim it, so eventually they had hesitantly accepted it as their future sib. Now he couldn't imagine living without the anticipation. He swooped low to the ground, wingtips grazing the marsh waters dangerously. It was one of his worse habits, but personally he loved the thrill. If he was going to die eventually, he might as well do it having lived his life to the fullest. Spatterdock’s knowing eyes picked out his sleep house among the dozens of other muddy amalgamations. His sibs actually cared (at least a little) about comfort and decency. Buttonbush and marsh plantain plants grew thickly around their home, although with a semblance of order that seemed foreign to most MudWings. The repairs they had made last summer after a section of the roof collapsed were almost invisible. With a burbly squelch, he landed claws-deep in the mud and padded into the entrance. The room was empty. Surely they’d be here . . . Spatterdock couldn’t imagine a reason why they’d leave with the egg about to hatch. Now that he thought of it, the village was strangely quiet. He peeked outside, but only the MudWings he’d seen fighting were anywhere to be seen. They too wore confused looks on their faces. He scanned the inside of the sleep house again. The mud had several shallow depressions where his sibs liked to sit, and a smaller one that perfectly fit an egg. Another imprint caught his attention. It was a clawprint, sharply defined and strangely deep. Spatterdock had seen an imprint like this before, but where? The only dragons with claws that narrow would be the. . . “''SKYWINGS!” someone shrieked hysterically as innumerable wingbeats filled the air. He rushed outside to see an entire legion of red-orange nightmares fill his vision. ''We’ve been ambushed! One of the SkyWings flew out challengingly in front of the rest. She looked more powerful than the others, maybe a general, Spatterdock guessed. “Pathetic MudWings,” the dragon said haughtily. “Wondering where your friends are?” The other MudWings started clamoring amongst themselves. What did this dragon think she was doing, flying directly into an enemy encampment? What was she talking about? Should they kill her immediately, or listen to what she was saying first? “Cloud-brained, as usual,” the SkyWing continued, shaking her head in mock pity. “While you were off fighting my diversionary forces, you left your precious village unguarded.” “What did you do to them!?” someone called angrily. “Oh, the negotiations were short,” she responded. “Seeing that they were vastly outnumbered, they acted sensible for once and surrendered.” “You'' liar!” Spatterdock spat. “They would never do that!” MudWings didn’t desert their tribe unless there was no other option. Even then, most preferred to die instead of being taken captive. The SkyWing spread her talons innocently. “It’s all true. I even promised that they’d be treated fairly. Unfortunately, the Sky Kingdom’s dungeons are full at the moment. So instead I had them executed after we’d left the village.” She looked down, as if trying to remember something, then jerked her head up with a gleeful smile on her snout. “Speaking of which,” she said, staring maliciously at him but speaking to her troops, “Kill them all.” Spatterdock roared viciously as the Skywings attacked. They would ''pay for what they’d done. He veered straight for the general, claws extended. She swatted him to the ground easily with her tail, then landed on top of his chest. He felt several of his ribs crack under the strain, and a small trickle of blood began to run inside his mouth. “You look awfully similar to those MudWings with the egg,” she commented. “They were the most pathetic of all your scummy Tribe, pleading for me to spare the egg instead of their own lives.” “Where are they?” he croaked, scrabbling uselessly at the ground in an attempt to escape. “Oh, didn’t you hear me? They’re dead.” It isn’t true! his thoughts yelled at him. They’d never be defeated while protecting our sib! '' “Of course, because I’m such a kind and considerate dragon, I had the egg spared. Although it would be a shame if some clumsy-claws were to drop it on the way back to the Kingdom.” The unhinged smile on her face cracked even wider. “No,” he said. “Anything but that! Kill me instead!” “You amuse me, Mud dragon,” she said, hooking one talon under his chin and bringing his snout level with hers. “But you aren’t in a position to negotiate anything. "Sweet dreams.” A flare of pain slashed across his throat, and blood gushed over him. The SkyWing stepped back with that horrible grin on her face and watched him thrash around trying to breathe. ''I can’t die. I have to avenge them. Screams echoed around him, growing fainter by the second. The pain engulfing his head and throat was unbearable. I . . . Can’t . . . Spatterdock's claws fell limp. Night fell over his brain. The whole world went pitch black, except for the hideous image of the SkyWing laughing viciously. Die . . . 'Dedication' To all my loyal readers out there, this is for you. (Yes, I’m giving you a shout out, Nightshade. Happy?) My name is Vervain, and I’m a writer. Or at least, I am now. I’ve told this story to some of you before, and those of you who’ve heard me tell it really can’t seem to get enough of it. Plus I’m finally tired of my letter box being flooded with fan mail asking me to write about this random topic or that. So I’m granting your wishes. Or at least the most common one among hundreds, (no, for the last time, I never promised that every dragon who writes to me would get a personalized scroll!) if not thousands. I’m giving you all the story of my life, from mere dragonet to where I am now. Honestly, I’m amazed that you all would find such an interest in my life. As far as I can see, it seems to have been a lot calmer than many of yours! Right now I’m really tempted to leak some spoilers into this dedication, just to annoy some of the more obsessive readers out there. (Did I mention it’s never a good idea to give a Nightwing spoilers for a story? Well, now I did, so be warned!) Against my will, I will control myself and retain a semblance of suspense. Enough of this; my talons are itching to begin. Those fellow writers out there will know this feeling. It grips my mind and soul and forces me to blurt my imagination (or in this case, memories) onto the paper. I’ve rarely wanted to get ink stains on my talons so much as in this moment, and by the end of the story I’ll be wanting to get rid of them just as much! One last thing. If any of you are interested in becoming writers, I’d be happy to read your works and comment on them. All you have to do is send them to me. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t laugh at you if you make a mistake. The best storytellers are the ones that aren’t afraid to fall, pick themselves up again, and keep flying. I know it’s not easy; I know it can actually be quite infuriating at times (both for myself and for other dragons). But no matter how far you might fall, you’ll never be too far down to try again. So keep your head high, crack a smile, and let your mistakes carry you to greater heights than ever before. 'Chapter One: A Home In The Sky' It was a joyous day in the Sky Kingdom when the proclamation arrived. The war was over! The tribes were at peace again! The Dragonets would be starting a new academy in Jade Mountain! Rainbows and sparkles! (That was probably one of Kinkajou’s lines; I can’t imagine where else I’d get that from!) Everything was finally looking up. Including me, who was gazing with awestruck eyes at the poster that had been tacked to the outer wall of our hut. My adopted mother, Swift, would be applying for entry to the academy in a trio of years when I was older and more responsible. True, that was just a little too far away for me to sit still, but just imagine. Me getting to meet the '''Dragonets of Destiny!' COULD YOU BELIEVE THAT!? I certainly couldn’t. “Vervain, are you ''still standing there?” called Swift’s amused voice from inside. “Come on inside, you silly dragonet. The pigeons are getting cold!” Oh well. I could watch that poster all I wanted after lunch. Not that it mattered, since I couldn’t read it anyway. And the smell of gently roasted pigeon was really enticing, just so you know. Totally not breaking my solemn oath to stand there until Swift relented and let me go to school this year. Just a little food break, that was all. As I entered the door and sat down at the table, I gave Swift a heartfelt smile. Yes, I was a MudWing and she was a SkyWing. That much was obvious. But what most dragons didn’t know was that she had saved me from being smashed in my egg by the vicious general Raven, who was now thankfully dead. Swift took me in as her own dragonet, fed me, taught me how to hunt, and gave me all the love I wanted. Mind you this was before the SkyWing-MudWing truce when I hatched. I was three years old now. Personally, I thought Swift was the most amazing dragon in the whole history of Pyrrhia. It didn’t matter that she was nothing more than a peasant in the Sky Kingdom. Or that she couldn’t teach me to read because she’d never learned herself. All I cared about was that she was my mother, and she was perfect. Also, did I mention how amazing her cooking was? Wild herbs really do wonders for roasted poultry, you know. “Slow down, you voracious mudball!” Swift laughed. My plate was already empty, my face already begging her for more. “You’re going to burst at this rate!” “But Mommmm,” I whined ever-so-pitifully (you really don’t want to know how good I was at this back in the day), “It’s so gooooood! Can’t I have just a littttle more?” Swift broke down laughing. “With a face like that, I’m surprised you don’t have the moons themselves serving you! Here, take the rest.” “Thank you'' sooooo'' much!” I said, mission accomplished as always. “You’re welcome,” she said with another smile. Swift’s care for me had no bounds. Which was a good thing, because neither did my stomach! “Are you'' suuure'' that I can’t go to school this year?” I pleaded, hoping that my gratitude for the cooking might swing the scales in my favor. “I promise I’ll be reeeally good!” “Not until your sixth hatching day,” she said firmly, and that was that. '* * * ' Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon) Category:Content (Solstice the Sandwing Nightwing)